Well Oiled Romance-er, Ship
by The Lupine Sojourner
Summary: They met at the Academy. They were married just after graduation. They are currently on Delta Vega, awaiting a rescue that drags them into a hectic adventure, complete with time travelling Romulans and Vulcans. Being on the Enterprise is never boring, at least... Scotty/OC
1. Prologue: Romance at the Academy

**HERE WE GO. I'M ATTEMPTING TO WRITE A STAR TREK OC STORY. I HAVEN'T SEEN TOO MANY 'SCOTTY/OC STORIES OUT THERE, SO I WANTED TO ADD MY OWN LITTLE OFFERING TO THE MIX. I MAY NOT BE THE WORLD'S BIGGEST TREKKIE, BUT I DO ENJOY WRITING, AND THE NEWEST MOVIES. THOSE ARE THE ONLY THINGS I'VE SEEN SO FAR. I AM INTERESTED IN WATCHING THE ORIGINAL SERIES, HOWEVER, AS A TREKKIE FRIEND OF MINE SAID IT WAS PRETTY GOOD. REVIEWS WOULD BE APPRECIATED SO I KNOW WHAT I'M GETTING MYSELF INTO, ALRIGHT?**

 **AND THE WAY YOU PROMOUNCE MY OC'S NAME IS 'EE-VEEN', KAY? OR HOWEVER YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE PRONOUNCED. ENJOY!**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~ONE SEPTIC MARKIPLITE**

I never thought I'd be this nervous. I wanted to do this, very badly in fact, but...at what cost? My good relationship with my father? How would he respond? Probably not well. At all.

However, my aunt Siobhan and I had decided to take the risks. I wanted to help as many people as possible in any way they needed. This was how I did that. I just hoped Dad would understand. I didn't want to hurt him, or ruin our relationship, but I felt this was my calling, what I felt I had to do. Again...I hope dad can understand that. After all, you do meet a lot of people in Starfleet. Aunt Siobhan always asked why I didn't have much of a social life at all. I'd lift the book I was reading at the time into the air without a word, continuing to read as though nothing had happened. Sure, some people I met would be dangerous people bent on killing the crew of the ship I'm on, but Dad had made me take several various self-defense classes. I would-or rather... _should_ -be able to handle myself. Surely Dad would understand. He _had_ to, right? It wasn't about following in his footsteps to me. It was about my making a difference, especially after Mum died. I did not want to be a Captain. No, I'd be little Nurse Pike, healing people and loving every second of it. I'd keep my head down, do my job, and everything would be fine.

I took a deep breath, heading into the Starfleet Academy's main building. This was what I wanted. I _had_ to take this opportunity. Regardless of how much Dad was gonna kill me tonight.

Then, lost in my thoughts, I bumped into a handsome young man. He was about my height, with cute brown hair, dazzling blue eyes, and was currently gathering his few PADDs hastily. I scooped them up, apologizing profusely, trying to get them into a neater stack when he merely smiled, and held out a hand for them.

"Where yeh aff to in such a hurry, love?" I chuckled nervously. I wasn't used to being called 'love' by anyone but Aunt Siobhan. It was really odd. Cute, sweet, and weird, all at once, but odd all the same. It was no real big deal. He sounded either Irish (like Yours Truly) or Scottish. I've never been able to distinguish between the two accents. Everyone thought I should be able to, given that I myself am an Irish girl (well...technically, half Irish, but who's keeping score, eh?)...but I never could.

"Classes. Sorry about that." I said sheepishly. The man shook my hand, taking his PADDs with the other. "I'm just heading to, uh, Advanced Mathematical Theory." It was a General Education class, so I had to take it, but I hated it. It may as well have been Xenolinguistics, the sense it made to me. He beamed at me, and I found myself thinking he was adorable. Which is normal, I feel certain. Plenty of people found other people adorable in a purely platonic way, right?

"Me, too! How crazy is tha', eh? What do yah say we walk together?" He looped his arm through mine before I could even tell him my name, or respond that I'd like to walk with him, and we were off to class. "I'm studying to be en Engineer!" He announced with gusto. I laughed as he plopped down in a seat, patting the one next to him with gusto to indicate he wanted me to sit there.

"Nurse Practitioner." I replied, pulling out my PADD, beginning a new note for the class (not that it would help me much) as the man did the same. He seemed cheeky, but in a sweet, nerdy way, leaning over his own PADD, typing away with that almost furious energy that meant he thoroughly enjoyed the task. Cheer and general joviality shone through his features and his body language, as well as the way he carried himself. Joy shone out of his very being, and it infected everyone he came across. Aunt Siobhan, were she here, would have hissed in my ear to scoop him up before another lady caught his fancy. She was always the romantic, reading _wwaayyy_ too much into people's actions and words. We'd literally just met and Aunty would most likely ask me if I'd kissed him yet. She was an oddball like that, but I loved her anyway. Suddenly, the note started typing itself. I gasped, not wanting to make a huge scene. The guy beside me chuckled.

'I'm Montgomery Scott. People call me Scotty, though. In fact, those who call me Montgomery don't usually make it to the next sunrise.' It read. He smiled at me winningly as I sent him an incredulous stare. I glanced around. We were a minute or so early. There aren't that many people here. I giggled and bent over my PADD, typing a response quickly. He was sweet and there was nothing to dislike about him. Nothing that my Dad would try and keep me away from. So no harm in one little conversation, right?

'Hi, Scotty! I'm Eavan Pike. Did you hack my PADD? With me right here?' I gave him an awed smile to let him know I was in no way angry or upset...just impressed.

'Pretty neat, huh?...You're the Admiral's friend's kid?' I decided to play this cool. No need to get all up in arms because he's one of the hundreds of people who ask me that daily.

'Pretty neat, huh? ;)' Using already said words made it funnier to me. Scotty, as well, evidently.

'I'll say!' My relationship with Scotty only progressed from there. We started meeting up in the mornings, and spending our walk to Advanced Mathematical Theory talking and laughing. We grew very close, able to study together far better than we could apart, although neither truly understood what we were quizzing the other on. It was better that way, because we had to explain the term or whatever to each other. We sharpened each other, made each laugh...

...Aunt Siobhan would demand I make out with him already to release the sexual tension in the room. I'd smack her arm playfully, cheeks burning because...I could kinda pick up on that tension. And I would rather suffer the tension than screw everything up between us. For all I knew...he didn't feel anything but a deep friendship for me. As for Dad...he was happy I had made at least one friend while at the Academy. He'd hated my aunt when he got home that first day, though.

For about ten minutes.

"Siobhan...you know I don't want my daughter _anywhere_ _ **near**_ combat situations." He'd growled.

"She wants to do this. I say let 'er. She'll handle 'erself jes' fine out there." Aunty (as she preferred to be called) glared at Dad, who glared at her in return, more fiercely than I'd ever seen before. I stepped between them before anything rash happened. One could never predict what Aunt Siobhan would do when provoked. My dad, neither, for that matter. I needed to calm the situation before things got violent...

"Dad...I'm not doing this to hurt you. I'm doing it because I _want_ to. I want to help people. And...and I hope you can understand. This is what I really want to do...ever since...well...I've wanted to help people." Aunt Siobhan placed a hand on Dad's shoulder, nodding toward the other room. They had a talk in another room, and suddenly, he didn't seem as adamant about my leaving the Academy or killing either me or my aunt anymore. He just hugged me and repeated the age-old 'just be careful.' plea before acting as if nothing had happened, helping to make dinner and all as normal. He came to stop worrying after I told him Scotty liked going everywhere he could with me. There were those who felt the need to harrass me because they were under the misguided notion that I had only gotten in because my dad was friends with a few of the Admirals. I'd just roll my eyes and retort that I had taken the entry exam like everyone else, signed the application forms like everyone else, and had even saved up enough for the shuttle ride out to L.A _like everyone else_. But when I was with Monty, we weren't targets for whatever scumbag wanted to try and accost me. I'd told Dad about Scott when Aunt Siobhan wasn't around. No sense in alerting her to a male in my life when there was nothing between us. At all. For about three months, but that's besides the point.

=#=#=#=#=

The day Scotty first kissed me, we were taking another of our rather frequent study walks around campus, coffees from a nearby cafe steaming away in our hands. We were discussing engines and hearts, which had more in common than you'd think, with the fuel injectors acting somewhat kinda like arteries and veins, almost. Kinda, but not exactly.

"I never realized that the more you exercise yer heart, the slower it'd get! Yeh'd think it'd get faster, wouldn't yeh?" I laughed, sipping my coffee. Monty was thinking of engines.

"I suppose...that is, until you realize that the heart is a muscle, as well. The more yeh exercise it, the more efficient and powerful it becomes." Scotty blushed (or was it the cold? The wind did kick up just now...).

"Now I feel stupid." I giggled.

"Aww...Monty...yer not stupid." I then over-dramatized rethinking my statement. "Well...usually, at any rate. Especially when I try to explain a diagnosis to you." Monty scoffed.

"Well...when yeh start wavin' them fancy bleeding words around, I get confused!" I doubled over a little in hysterics. Scotty saying that the terms I use in everyday conversation were hard to grasp was simply too much.

"So, that's with engines, I'm assuming, that whole 'faster the better it is' thing, but the heart is different." Monty nodded.

"Got it. Yeh know...mah heart gets plenty of exercise." He muttered offhandedly, sipping at his coffee, watching other Cadets lounging on the grass, books open and glares of concentration on their faces. I hummed. I didn't know what Monty did for exercise, but I knew that if Monty said he exercised, he did exercise. I trusted him.

"Oh? What do you do?" He chuckled nervously, sipping reflexively at his coffee, almost to avoid talking, it seemed. I cocked a brow.

"Well...usually, looking at you is enough." I felt my heart skip a beat. Whoa...what? Did he just...admit to—oh, geez! How do I respond? I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a gulp of coffee as I thought of what to say.

"Well...I run, but when we're together...yeah. It's kinda like that." I babbled. Monty chuckled, I chuckled, which turned into laughter. We ended up gazing at each other. I swallowed, leaning in. Monty did, as well. Our lips sealed in a kiss. It felt electric, fiery, and altogether new, but natural and normal all at once.

Of course, Monty talked to my father a week later. Dad had held it together remarkably. Aunty just laughed and said 'welcome to the family, dear' when she met him. I'd talked about Scotty more and more, and Aunty, lovable weirdo that she is, had picked up on my blossoming romance. Dad took Monty into another room for what felt like hours, but can't have been more than thirty minutes. Monty came out smiling, shaking Dad's hand.

"Pleasure, sir. I'll keep all that in mind. Thank you." Dad nodded.

"Don't cross any lines, kid, and you have my blessing." I rolled my eyes.

"Monty's not like that." Scotty shrugged.

"It's a fair statement, Eavan." A few months later, we were talking wedding cakes and venues instead of boundaries in the relationship. We'd felt our yearning growing stronger, so why put it off? We both knew how the other felt. Why tempt ourselves when it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to just get married? Of course, we talked very seriously about it. Most of our talks were serious, really, unless it was studying. And even that was serious, as it affected our future. We decided on a small affair with hardly anybody there. A few of Monty's buddies from the Engineering School (and other schools) and a few of my friends were there to celebrate our union with us. Dad held it together remarkably, merely stating (slightly cracked voice and all) that Mum would have been so proud. I'd nearly started crying, but managed to get a grip before it became too hard to stop.

"I know. Thank you, Dad. You know I _love_ you, and I won't be _that_ far away." Dad chuckled.

"I know. I just...wish Jackie could have been here." I shrugged. There was a grief here, I couldn't deny that, but also a great cheer, a sense of liberation, and I knew...Mum wouldn't want Dad moping. She'd wanna drag him onto the dance floor and dance until their feet were sore. I grabbed Dad's hand.

"Maybe she is...in spirit."


	2. Of Pregnancies and Ice Rinks

**THE SECOND CHAPTER STARTS HERE, FOLKS! HOPE YOU LIKE, AND PLEASE POINT OUT ANY FLAWS YOU SEE POLITELY, OKAY? I LOVE THE POSITIVISM OF MY REVIEWERS TO DATE. I'D LOVE IT STAYING THAT WAY EVEN MORE, ALRIGHT? PREEMPTIVE STRIKE. SORRY.**

 **OH, AND THE LOVELY FANART I'M USING AS MY COVER IS FROM GREGCHAPIN (I BELIEVE) ON DEVIANTART. IT'S AN AMAZING PIECE, NO? ;) HOPE YOU LIKE IT AS MUCH AS I DO. NOW...ONTO THE STORY!**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~ONE SEPTIC MARKIPLITE**

I should have known it'd come to this. I mean, I knew that taking Admiral Archer's fricking prize beagle was not our brightest idea ever. But...well...given that the grapefruit was beamed planet to planet perfectly...without a hitch...that kinda blinded us to the risks of using a life form, much less one that meant a lot to our superior officer. But Scotty had been so certain that it would work...so certain that he was right, that we could beam across planets and through star systems. So we tried it on an innocent beagle. We broke a dozen or more regulations doing so, as well. But that hadn't mattered. We'd been so certain that we could do it, that Archer was wrong about our theory. Until the beagle was lost. I was supposed to receive it. It never came.

Understandably, Admiral Archer freaked out quite a bit, conspiring with Admiral Marcus to get us sent away to Delta Vega as punishment for our brash actions. I'm shocked that Adm. Archer would take his vengeance this far, especially considering my father's friendship with Adm. Marcus. This is crazy...and yet...I'm about to head into a shuttle that will get us only as far as Delta Vega. No more. The course was even pre-programmed in. I sighed heavily as Dad came trumping over, a heavy, depressed look on his face. It was shocking how much older he looked with worry now. I gave him a tiny smirk. He doesn't return it. His eyes hold a slight disappointment. I hate that. I hate myself for earning that look. I look away, cheeks burning in shame. I hoped I'd be able to earn a better look from him again, someday...I didn't want to lose my relationship with my father. Aunt Siobhan had no idea. She was working at the hospital now. Dad would have to tell her when she gets off work.

"Dad...I'm so sorry. We...we thought that we had all the kinks worked out...we thought...after the success with the grapefruit...we thought that-" It was all in could think to say. It was pathetic, but under dad's current look...I melted and shriveled. I hoped he would eventually forgive me.

"An innocent dog wouldn't be too different." Dad interrupted. I groaned. "You werent thinking...And so, you two ended up killing a beagle." I swallowed. Dad was worried. Beyond worried. He was disappointed, saddened, and probably confused as to our motivations. He got like this when he was worried.

And it was all my fault. I'd done this to him. I'd never forgive myself. Even if Dad forgives me. I knew I didn't really deserve forgiveness, but a part of me craved it, as any human does in this kind of situation.

"Yeah...I know. We weren't thinking. I'm sorry, Dad." Dad sighed, drawing me in for a hug.

"I know, Eavan. But the fact remains...you're going to Delta Vega. Admiral Marcus and Admiral Archer won't even let me see them. This is out of my hands." I nodded, clutching at my father's shirt, breathing in his scent to have something to remember on Delta Vega. Truth be told...I was as worried as Dad. I knew what could happen on that fricking ice rink. There were stories about the creatures there...monstrous things that feed on the unsuspecting sods who'd gotten sent there as punishment.

"We deserve it." Dad shook his head, putting a signature 'my turn to speak' hand up.

"Don't. You maybe deserve a month banned from anything Starfleet related, but not this. Not Delta Vega. Not with your pregnancy." I groaned. My pregnancy was not an issue. If all went well, we'd be off that ice rink in two months. The fetus would not be affected at all, even if we were stranded there for a while longer that we wanted. Cold doesn't affect pregnancy. I've told them so, a thousand times, but they still used that against me.

"I totally agree, sir." My husband said, coming back out from loading our luggage onto the shuttle before I could reply. It was only the necessities. It was all we were allowed. "I take full responsibility." I sighed. My Scots-man could be so dramatic at times, but I love him for it. "I wish to heaven I could take it all back, Captain Pike, sir, but I cannae change the past." Dad nodded. I was beyond grateful that my father was not mad at Monty. He understood that I deserved this, as well. I was just as guilty as my husband in this matter.

"Scotty...we both screwed up. So we both deserve this." Scotty gave me a look.

"Eavan...please don't say that. I dragged you into this mess. And besides...nothing says that a pregnant woman should have to be sent to exile on a planet like Delta Vega." I pinched the bridge of my nose. That was true, but...the Admirals responsible for our exile had no clue that I was pregnant. I'd just recently found out myself, and I sure as heck ain't gonna tell random people, even though they knew and worked with my father.

"They don't know. And like I said a million times before...the cold doesn't affect the child." Scotty cupped my cheek gently. I leaned into his touch as Dad placed a hand on my shoulder. That worry was there, still aging him. But at least the other looks were all but gone.

"But it does affect _you_. And that's something I cannae allow." I sighed. There was no winning this battle. Scotty had a Scottish stubborn streak to rival any Irishmen's.

"It's not like they can reverse their decision, love. They cannae just keep me back and let you go on wit'out me. And even if they could...I wouldnae allow that." Our accents were startlingly similar, despite my being mostly Irish and him being Scottish. Dad had married a pure Irish woman by the name of Jacklyn McBurrow, and I had inherited a lot of my genetics from her. My light brown hair, however, was from my father. I'd cropped it to halfway down my neck. My charcoal-grey eyes were from my mother, as well. Dad told me that Mum and I's shared eyes reminded him of a storm-cloud. Mum had been killed aboard the U.S.S Kelvin that day...so long ago. I was on earth, with Dad, who was on shore leave at the time. Though Mum was the one who convinced him to take the proffered shore leave while she was on mission, he still didn't forgive himself, and was highly protective of me, though he'd gotten better about it once I joined Starfleet Academy. It was something that we'd refused to talk about, but dealt with the repercussions to this day. He'd done his dissertation on the _Kelvin_ and had not come out of his room for days afterward, for example. It was startling, the difference it had made on him, but Aunt Siobhan and I hadn't wanted to press him to talk about it.

And now...I was going to Delta Vega. Dad gave me that worried, helpless look. I hated that look. It made me realize what I'd done to Dad. I'd hurt him by breaking regulations, just to prove that Scotty was right about his Transwarp theory. Turns out, we maybe should have listened, huh?

This punishment _did_ seem a bit over-the-top, though. I know that beagle was important to Adm. Archer, but still...to essentially banish us to Delta Vega for two months? That seemed far too harsh, but it was what the Admiralty decided.

I _hate_ my life!

=#=#=#=#=

The shuttle gave a huge lurch and then lay still as we landed. I grabbed my bag, getting ready to head out. I felt cold already, and I wasn't even off the shuttle yet. This would be torture. But only two months. Then...it would be over. I'd be back to living a normal life in Starfleet with my husband. There would be no more exile for us. We'd be a proper family. Although...there would always be the memories of what happened to get us here. Admiral Archer's wild revenge scheme he somehow corrupted Adm. Marcus with, as well. Those two were the antithesis of what it meant to be a Starfleet Admiral. They had abused their power, perhaps in ways no one yet realized. I hoped I was wrong, however.

My thoughts were halted as a Roylan tugged at my sleeve, trying to get me to give him my satchel. I smiled and relinquished it as Monty went to get his own bag, refusing to give it up as the Roylan led us down a hall.

"I lead you to rooms now. Me Keenser. You?" I found the Roylan's broken English adorable.

"I'm Eavan Scott. That is my husband, Monty." I leaned in a little. "He prefers Scott or Scotty, though."

=#=#=#=#=

The sound of a door opening startled me. I was halfway through getting dressed after my shower, and whoever was outside was jes' gonna havta wait a moment while I pull my shirt on. It's a little harder when yer stomach's larger than a bowling ball. As soon as I opened the door, a PADD was tapped against my arm, as Keenser vehemently avoided touching my stomach, which I had told him would be fine. I read it. Looks like Dad had gotten his wanted promotion. I sighed, lingering on the picture of Dad being handed the yellow shirt by Adm. Komack (or was that someone else? I sometimes get confused with the names attached to the Admiralty's faces), the eager, bright eyes of the crew members beaming at me from the background. He was assigned to shore leave whilst awaiting the christening, which would occur once a mission became available. I smiled sadly. Way to go, Dad. Just wish I could be there with you, eagerly listening to the ship's schematics as Aunty whisper-rattled on about it beside me as you accepted the position. She was the ship's biggest fan, apparently, and desperately wanted to get aboard, but that was (once again) up to the Admiralty. I really wanted to be there. Maybe Aunty had gotten assigned, after all (blasted fuzzy background!) and I could still be assigned, as well. Usually, if the Cadet's record has one violation, there would be a probation period, and then it would be as if nothing happened, right? So, potentially, I could still get onto the _Enterprise_. As soon as I get off this fricking ice rink.

=#=#=#=#=

 _ _Four fricking__ _ _ **months**__ we've been stranded here, instead of the two we were supposed to serve. The thought that we'd been forgotten and abandoned here was too great to not think about anymore. As soon as the two month mark came and went, the thoughts had started. No...wait...it was actually when I had noticed that we hadn't received the updates we should have been from Dad on Starfleet's latest news and developments. Last I'd heard, the _Enterprise_ , the newest star-ship in Starfleet, reportedly a flagship, was almost ready for her maiden voyage. Which might have already taken place, for all we knew. Which sucks, cus I always kinda wanted to work on that ship, maybe even with Dad as Captain. He'd told me once (and this is completely confidential information, mind yeh) that there was a possibility of him getting assigned to the _Enterprise_ as her Captain. Which would be _AMAZING_!

It seemed that we were on our own here. Which sucks majorly because I am pregnant, and with all that that implies...Delta Vega is _n_ _ _ot__ the place to be pregnant. Cravings went unsatisfied, morning sickness occasionally left stains on the icy metal floor when I couldnae make it to the bathroom, and the kicks were more frequent as the fetus tried moving around to find a warmer spot. Everywhere in our bunker, it was fricking freezing and there was always those times late at night when the native creatures came around and knocked several times on the exterior of the bunker, the sounds echoing eerily in my ears and in the halls. The worst part was that repairs to the exterior mechanisms was pointless; nature worked to bring anything we did down to beyond useless. For example, the wires __always__ become rigid when cold and the wind __always__ snaps them, so going out and changing them every hour or more isn't worth it. Also, the creatures here were nae too friendly, coming around whenever they pleased, only once or twice managing to get through a door. We quickly dealt with them with phasers we took with us.

Another thing I abhor about this planet (and the list is _very_ extensive) is the food; Starfleet protein nibs. They were nae food anymore; they were just something to keep us alive. Torturous fricking things, really. They're only there to keep the Starfleet personnel alive. That's it.

Late at night, we'd cuddle and talk about what would happen if we really had been forgotten here. That we'd been abandoned. Our food could only go so far...

But Dad should be able to get us out of here...I hope. I wonder if the Admiralty were purposely keeping Dad too busy to try and get approval for an evacuation shuttle. It was this thought that always made me break down. That was beyond cruel. How could they do that, all for some __stupid__ beagle?! That __had__ to be out of Regulations. But there was always the possibility that the shuttles never made it through the near constant storms here. Which is terrible, meaning other people may be stuck here. If only the scanners were functioning properly...we'd be able to tell if any ships entered the atmosphere. Ah, well. C'est la vie.

"Regardless of the reasons...we're stuck here until we're rescued, Eavan." I'd snuggle up to him, seekin' warmth and comfort in his embrace.

"I know. Its just...ah...I don't want this to be our life. I want us to be a proper family, taking shore leave and having tickle fights as a family, and...and all that familial stuff. I don't want to have our child worry about the protein nibs making it to the next supply restocking." Monty would shush me, stroking my hair, regardless of how short it was.

"Love...I have a feeling we'll be outta here long affore our little treasure gets here. Don't you worry yer pretty head." I'd smile and kiss Monty for his unshaken optimism, which I could tell was slowly being drained the longer we stayed here. He was amazing. I can't imagine life if I hadn't run into him that day. It seems so long ago now...but regardless, being here has made my love for my husband increase far beyond what I thought possible. I loved that. Even when Monty was feeling down, and that was a lot of the time, if _I_ was, he helped boost me up again. And in turn, I helped him remain steady in his faith in Starfleet, what it was meant to be. I still considered myself a Starfleet officer. Two Admirals' abuse of power did not mean that Starfleet was enemy here. People just did what was ordered, never knowing the repercussions. However, it was unnerving that _no one_ was investigating this. I mean, this is a _blatant_ violation of the Prime Directive. It would warrant an investigation, at least, wouldn't it?

 **THIS HAS BEEN THE SECOND CHAPTER FOR YOU LOVELY READERS! HOPE YOU LIKED.**


	3. Where the Fun Begins

When I woke up today, I had no idea what was in store for me, but I did have a feeling that _something_ would happen, even though I didn't know what that something was. I felt hyper and raring for something to do, even though there really was hardly anything to do here. I sat and handed Monty tools for repairing generators that had been damaged in the latest breach. That monster had torn through the nearest generator room before Monty and Keenser could deal with it. Naturally, Monty wouldn't let me anywhere _near_ that thing, so I was forced to watch helplessly as a monster wreaked havoc on our little bunker. It was dealt with swiftly, but I felt if Monty were fighting, I had a right to choose to be there, as well, making certain that we would all walk away unscathed. Poor Keenser was left with a few lacerations, deep ones, too, and bruises, as well as Scotty, but I was a nurse, so it took only moments to treat.

"Why you hyper today?" Keenser asked as I poured the cleaning solution onto a rag to rub on a gash across his shoulder. I chuckled.

"I'm not sure, Keenser. I just am." Monty, once done being treated and having finished repairs for the most part, had sat in a chair, draped his scarf over his eyes and promptly fallen asleep. That's the one thing I'm close to liking about Delta Vega; there isn't any need to wake up early. You can sleep as much as you-

What was that? Was that...a door opening? Keenser called out a greeting in Roylan, I think, though I have no idea what he actually said, and went to check it out, telling me that I should stay where I was. I gulped as the silence rang in my ears. This was good, right? No news (or in this case, sounds) was good, right?

Keenser called back a second or two later that everything was fine, and soon appeared with two men behind him. One was around my age (or looked it) with killer blue eyes and blonde hair. Combined with his toned and fit body, it was fairly obvious there was a 'Cowboy Casanova' thing with him. He gave me a smile and a nod. I merely narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms.

"Yeh do realize you were due _four fricking_ _ **months**_ _ago_ , right? An' what's the excuse, eh? Laziness or jes' 'convenient business that kept yeh away', cus neither are acceptable fer this!" The other man, this one a kind-looking older Vulcan, smiled.

"Eavan Scott. As passionate as ever." I blinked, choosing to disregard the odd vibe about the older guy I was getting. If they were here to get us off-planet ( and I prayed they were), I didn't really care how they knew my name already.

"Well, come on, then. Les' go get Monty and get outta here." I turned to walk out toward my husband, but halted. "That _is why_ yeh've come, right?" Younger Guy scoffed and opened his mouth, but at a restraining hand on the shoulder and a look from Older Guy, he shut it again.

"Yes, if possible, we may be able to get you and your bondmate off-planet." I nodded. That much was good, but there was still a very odd vibe about the fact that he knows my name, even though we'd never seen each other before. Younger Guy rolled his eyes. I ignored my questions in favor of leaving the room, leading the two men toward Scotty. I stood there, lost in thought as Keenser smacked his leg, reaching my husband before I could.

" _What_?" He groaned, taking the scarf off his eyes without sitting up. His expression darkened as he took in the strangers.

"Monty..." I warned. These people were gonna get it if I let Scott off the handle. I needed to reign him in.

"Yeh realize how unacceptable this is?"

"Monty, please." If I couldn't—too late. That look in his eyes was enough to let me know anything I said would only hack him off.

"Fascinating." Older Guy mused under his breath. I was standing close enough to hear, though. I cocked a brow. There was something odd about Older Guy...but Monty didn't seem to notice or care.

"What?" Younger Guy asked. I swallowed. Something wasn't right here, I could tell. But for right now, I'd rather jes' focus on getting' outta here. We'll deal with the questions later.

"Okay, I'm sure yer jes' doin' yer jobs, but could yeh no' have come a wee bit sooner? I mean, jes' look at mah wife! She's lookin' fit to give birth, an-" I scoffed angrily. Was he really bringing my pregnancy up right now?

"Okay, seriously?!" I growled. "I told yeh, I'm just starting my third trimester, so I have a few months longer! Honestly, hon, please stahp all the talk about it, alright?" Monty didn't even seem to notice my interruption, sitting up huffily and angrily tossing his lunch packet of protein nibs (the cursed things) into the air. I wished he would calm down already. It's not like I'm incapacitated here! So what I've got a baby due in three months? I'm fine to move around! In fact, I'm pretty sure it's healthy! But if yeh were to ask Monty, I ought to be on bed-arrest until after the baby came. On one hand, it was sweet. But on the other, it was irritating beyond belief, and I wish he would stop worrying and banning me from helpin' out around here. Not much else to do, really.

"-on a planet like Delta Vega, it's not a pretty sight! We've been livin' off Starfleet protein nibs and the promise of a good meal! An' I know exactly what's goin' on here, okay? Punishment, isn't it? Ongoin', fer something that was _clearly_ an accident!" I somehow smiled and rolled my eyes. Scotty had never so much as thought of admitting that his equation was wrong. The whole thing was just a tragic accident that could not have been foreseen. Older Guy looked like he'd gotten an unexpected result on an experiment. I didn't like that look. It was unsettlin'.

"You are Montgomery Scott?" I frowned.

"Pardon me, but you are?" I asked, as politely as my current highly suspicious attitude could afford.

"You know him?" Younger Guy asked incredulously.

"Well, aye, that's me. Yer in the right place. Unless there's more hardworking, equally starved Starfleet officers around." I rolled my eyes. 'Starved' was a fairly large oversight, but we did have growling stomachs all the time. Keenser looked at Scotty.

"Me." Monty scoffed.

"Get aff! Shut up! Yeh don't eat anythin'! You can eat, like, a bean, and yer done! I'm talkin' about food. Real food."

"Love, this is a retrieval, not a supply restockin' or what 'ave yah. They are here to get us outta here." _I hope_ I added internally.

"Yeah? Well, good, because Eavan needs more than protein nibs and water to kee-" He caught my glare. "Sorry. But, well, yer here now, so...thank you." He said, backtracking as fast as possible. I sighed. It wasn't Monty's fault I was here, and pregnant. I simply had not let the world know I was expecting. And who could blame me? I was sick of people actin' like I was incapacitated or anything. That would not happen fer a few months yet. "Where is it?" Monty asked when he failed to see anything readily accessible and edible. Older Guy tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"You are, in fact, the Mr. Scott who postulated the theory of transwarp beaming?" I chuckled as Scotty's face dropped.

"That's what I'm talkin' about! How d'yeh think we wound up here? Eavan's only here because I dragged 'er along!" I rolled my eyes.

"I came cus I didn't wanna worry 'bout yah when I could just as easily go with yah." I retorted. Monty sighed.

"An' I told yeh to stay in the apartment!"

"Didn't think worrying and wearing a trough in the floor with pacing was the right way to spend my evening." He scowled.

"Regardless, it's-

"Guys, back to the matter at hand, please." Younger Guy interjected. I blinked, realizing that I had been getting _really_ close to my husband. Scotty was leaning in. I gave him a quick peck.

"I had a _little_ debate with my instructor on the issue of relativistic physics and how to pertains to subspace travel." He sighed. "He seemed to think that the range of transporting something like a—like a grapefruit was limited to about 100 miles. I told him that I could not only beam a grapefruit from one planet to the adjacent planet in the same system—which is easy, by the way—I could do it with a lifeform. So...I tested it on Admiral Archer's prize beagle." I chuckled, leaning on the desk beside my husband as he grabbed a mug of water and took a swig.

"Told him to use a runt, tiniest of the bunch, but...he had to have the _prize_ beagle."

"Well...not jes' any runt was worthy to make history, yah know." Monty replied, but there was a guilt under the sarcasm that let me know he really did understand what we had done. I sighed.

"Anyway..." I prompted. Younger Guy frowned.

"I know that dog. What happened to it?" Monty made a face.

"I'll let yah know when it reappears." I cocked a brow.

"I thought yeh said it was lost in subspace." I mused. Monty rolled his eyes, setting the mug down.

"I don't know. I do feel guilty about that." Older Guy took a small step forward.

"What if I told you that your theory was correct? That it is, indeed, possible to beam onto a ship traveling at warp speed?" Monty scoffed. He'd gotten so frustrated at those bloody fricking equations, I'd feared the loss of both the PADD and my husband's sanity. Fortunately, when I went to calm him down, taking the PADD from him, I noticed something odd about one of the subroutines; it was supposed to be contained in a triangle-thingy, but it wasn't. It was instead left open on one of the bottom legs of the triangle. Needless to say, he still didn't like the equations. Said they messed with his brain.

"I think if—if that equation had been discovered, I'd have heard about it."

"And we probably wouldnae be here, would we?" I added sourly, arms crossed and one foot over the other as I now sat on the desk. Keenser sat beside me, nodding in agreement.

"The reason you haven't heard of it, Mr. Scott, is because you haven't discover it yet." I let my jaw hang loose as I pushed off the desk.

"Hold on just a wee minute now, lad! Yer saying we're gonna discover that equation, but yeh don't know diddly-squat about us! How the _frick_ do you know?!" I fumed. There had been something odd about that guy from minute 1, and now here was solid oddness. Unbelievable! There is no—wait...is...he—are these guys from the future?!

"Are you from the future?!" Monty and I asked in unison. Older Guy chuckled, but it was Younger Guy that actually spoke first.

"Yeah. He is, I'm not." I felt slightly dizzy. The heck?! Time traveling Vulcans were not something you heard about every day, much less have them in yer fricking bunker!

"Well that's brilliant."

"Insane is more like it, love." I replied, hand on a popped hip as I took this all in. Wow. Dang...time travel. Who knew?

"Do they still have sandwiches there?" I laughed.

"Hun...I feel certain there are still sandwiches in the future."

"Indeed." Older Guy mused. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeh said you could get us outta here. What do yeh need?"

=#=#=#=#=

"Well, she's a wee bit dodgy." Scotty announced, banging on the shuttle that had gotten us here. We'd tried to get it operational again, but...no luck. "Shield emitters are totally banjaxed, as well as a few other things."

"*cough* Everything *cough*" I replied. Monty stuck his tongue at me.

"Can it, Eavan." He retorted sarcastically, not missing a beat. I smiled. Aye, me an' my husband may have our spats and disputes (boundaries regarding my activities during pregnancy, for example), but we always made up. We always found a way to move forward. Probably because we had yet to find a dispute large enough to drive any serious wedge between us. That's what I love about Monty; we're always a team, him and I, working together through this. "On youse go." He ordered politely, flipping a wrench he had picked up on the way over in his hands expertly. "So, the _Enterprise_ has had it's maiden voyage, has it?" I noticed a look between the two men, and I wondered why they almost seem to glance at me when they did so. I tilted my head. Soon enough, I'd have answers. But priorities are getting off this planet and onto the _Enterprise_ , for whatever the fricking bloody reason. In fact, the whole 'get to the _Enterprise_ ' thing was one of the only facts I had about these mysterious two men that had happened upon our bunker, by the looks of it. They did not appear to be a part of a retrieval squad. That would have involved a shuttle of some kind. These men had nothing on them, no possessions to speak of. I was worried about who they were, but willing to trust them to get us off-planet. I was so done with this ice rink right now. "She is one well-endowed lady." Monty noted. I chuckled.

"Not the only one you know." I smirked as Monty's cheeks went a few shades redder, but he acted like I hadn't said anything.

"I'd like to get my hands on her ample nacelles, if yeh'll pardon the engineering parlance." I laughed.

"Oh, yeh weren't talkin' about me, were yeh? Oops. Thought yeh were." Monty laughed, as well.

"I was, actually. You and the _Enterprise_." I blushed, and laughed all at once. He was quite something, all right.

"Get goin, yeh great buffoon!" I replied, lightly shoving Monty toward the door. I headed directly for Younger Guy, intent on getting those answers, finally. "Hi." I chirped. Then mentally slapped myself. Obvious prying, much? Ugh. I blame it on the pregnancy hormones. I'm clearly not responsible for my actions. He cocked a brow at me.

"What?"

"Who _are_ you? You and Older Guy over there." I asked, tone much more serious. Younger guy sighed.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"After you."

"Ladies first." I glared at him.

"Fine." I huffed. "My name is Eavan Pike Scott." Younger Guy swallowed in a manner that hinted at some pang on his heartstrings, similar to when Dad, Aunty and I heard anyone call the name 'Kelvin'. I disregarded that, adding it to the list of things to ask Younger Guy. "I am a certified Nurse Practitioner. You?"

"Jim Kirk. I, uh, well...I am supposed to be on my way to being a Captain, but then I got banned, and..it's a long story." I nodded, confused.

"Okay, but yeh'll be explainin' all this to me at _some_ point."

"Whatever. Anyway, we _really_ need to get to the _Enterprise_ and that's all you need to know right now." He said, standing and making to move to check on Older Guy. I grabbed his arm, standing as well.

"Who's Older Guy?" Jim scoffed.

"'Older Guy', huh? Okay. Uh...he's the older version of, ah, the Captain of the _Enterprise._ Well, technically, the Acting Captain, but-" I cut him off without hesitation.

"Wait... _Dad's_ the captain. Captain Pike. What the _frick_ happened that there's a need for an Acting Captain?" Jim didn't respond. I was panic-stricken. " _Jim_?" He licked his lips, looking highly reluctant to tell me whatever he needed to tell me, but about to, anyway, when Monty walked toward us.

"-riding a horse." He was saying. I cocked a brow, momentarily distracted.

"Uh...I'm not askin'." I mused. Jim tugged his arm free and went to talk to the Older Guy before I could stop him. He refused to acknowledge my very presence all of a sudden.

"Yeh alright there, Eavan?" Scotty asked, glancing at me as he punched in numbers and coordinates.

"Yeah...yeah...jes'...there's an Acting Captain aboard dad's ship."

"What? The _Enterprise_?"

"Yeah."

"Frick."

"I know." It was all we needed to say. We both knew the reasons for an Acting Captain, and we feared the worst. If Kirk and Older Guy were in this much of a hurry to get back to the ship, what had happened that Kirk had gotten off the _Enterprise_? I needed answers, and I wanted to get them as soon as possible. We jes' decided to help 'em out.

"Aye, then, laddie. Live or die, les' get this over with." He handed me a PADD. "Here the equation, love. Keeps it on record, eh?" I nodded. Like anything would happen to Monty, right? We headed over to the stalls we'd sat in during our flight here. Fitting that it would be the instrument that gets us outta here. Unfortunately, there were only three stalls. Keenser...would have to wait. I hated, _hated_ having to do that to him, but circumstances left us with no choice. Monty had to force Keenser out of the stall. I sighed.

"Hey, Mr.?" Older Guy looked over at me. "Can you beam Keenser to Starfleet HQ? He can get his pardon that way." There was a nod that meant he'd at least try. I smiled and waving at Keenser.

"See you soon." I whispered. Monty sighed. He hated leaving Keenser here, but he understood we had no choice.

"Goodbye, Keenser." Keenser merely whimpered. Kirk leaned over toward Older Guy.

"You know, going back in time, changing history...that's cheating." There was a joke somewhere, only between those two. And I had no idea what it was. I rolled my eyes, but watched in curiosity, anyway.

"A trick I learned from an old friend. Live long and prosper." Older Guy added, fingers forming a customary Vulcan farewell gesture, I think. I sighed as golden circles swirled around my arms and over my entire body. _I_ _ **really**_ _need answers_ , I thought for the millionth time today as I felt myself being dragged into subspace. It felt as if I were being torn apart, but I knew that it was not the case. It was the single oddest moment of my life. I could feel weightless and grounded at the same time as we flew through subspace, hoping that we made it to our destination. However, without a proper, grounded, sure receiving pad, we may hit a little off-target. We were making for a small supply room in the Engineering department, according to Old Guy's calculations. Then, as I felt ground beneath my feet again, I felt myself getting sick. I stumbled, fell to my knees, and heaved directly onto the floor right beside a pipe. Kirk was at my side as I stood shakily, wiping my mouth with my sleeve, gripping my upper arm and helping me up. Ugh, that was horrid. Vomiting protein nibs is not something I want to experience ever again.

"You alright?" Kirk asked. I nodded.  
"Yeah. First time beaming. Sometimes happens." Kirk nodded.

"Right." He then glanced around and we noticed something at the same time; Monty was nowhere to be seen. I gulped. "Mr. Scott?" Kirk called. Then, all of a sudden, there was bangin' on the large water reserve canister. I blanched. It could only mean one thing; Monty was in the water distribution system! The _frick_?! No _way_ my husband was _that_ unlucky, right?!


	4. Emotionally Compromising a Vulcan

I refrained (barely) from screaming out in sheer terror and panic as the banging continued. Kirk ran over to the canister, eyes wide and easily as terror-stricken and panicked as my own.

"Mr. Scott, can you hear me?!" Kirk yelled, ear pressed against the canister. I started a mental clock. Humans can only hold their breath for _so_ long...I swallowed. How to get him out? How? There were no moni—FRICK!

The canister suddenly activated, sending its contents into the pipes criss-crossing the area. Frick, frick, frick...no...

"Don't worry, I'll-" Kirk was cut off as Monty was sent hurling down the pipline as the pressure increased. I heard his muffled scream of panic and tried not to think of how much time that might be costing my husband. However, I doubt he'd understand my warning to _hold in_ his breath as much as possible. I turned to Kirk as we raced alongside (more or less) Monty in the pipes.

"Hope yeh've got a plan here, Jim!"

"Working on it!" He replied, eyes darting desperately around the ship. He knew it better than I did, and so reluctantly, I had to trust that Kirk would be able to get my husband out of those fricking pipes. Suddenly, the pipe Monty was in took an upward swing. Kirk blanched.

"No, no, _no_!"

"What's that mean?!" I reply, panicking because Kirk was worried about Monty going into that single pipe.

"That leads to the filtering fans!" I blanched, racing after Kirk, our eyes matching in panic and sheer abject horror. If we couldn't get Monty out...no, I can't think like that...he'll be fine...Kirk ran over to a monitor, fingers flying across the keys.

" _Turbine Release Valve activated._ " An automated female voice rang out, and sure enough the vale I hadn't noticed til now opened, releasing Monty along with a fair bit of water that splashed up to my knees as I ran over. Monty lay on the ground, pushing himself up shakily. I helped him sit up as Kirk came racing over. He suddenly nearly collapsed again, and I was in no way ready to catch him. Kirk left us on the ground, me on top.

"You alright? You alright?" He asked worriedly, searching Monty for signs of response. Seconds later, Monty coughed up a lot of water. I sighed in relief, huggin' him tightly as he continued coughing. I had never been more frightened for my husband's life. I kissed him soundly, breaking away regrettably as Monty needed to breath.

"My head's buzzin', and I'm soaked, but other than that, I'm fine!" Monty replied. I laughed.

"Good. Glad you're okay." Monty chuckled. I leaned down a little, chuckling. Monty grinned widely up at me.

"Fine way to get off Delta Vega, right?" I nodded, laughing.

"Indeed. Really breaks the mundane-ness down." I replied as I smiled at Monty with love. Kirk gave Monty a hand, pulling him easily up.

"Come on. That access wasn't authorized. It won't go unnoticed for long." I nodded, getting to my feet.

"Aye, lad. They may already know." Monty added. I took off after them, Monty holding back just slightly to run alongside me as we ran toward...wherever it was Kirk was heading to. I had no idea what to expect when we go wherever we were going, though.

" _Security, seal the Engineering deck. We have intruders in Turbine Section 3. Set phasers to stun."_

"Well, tha's jes' great!" Monty and I chorused, pressing ourselves to run faster. This was _not_ the way I wanted to come back to Starfleet. I wanted to do it the right way. I wanted to _earn_ the right to go back to HQ, not just beam onto a starship, which was highly illegal and most _certainly_ against regulations.

Okay...this ship is officially the coolest thing I've ever seen! Maybe it was the fact that, for six months, I had been stuck in a bunker that seemed to shrink the longer we were there. Maybe it was that I was so desperate for company and a change of scenery, I was eager to take in all of this fascinating starship. Maybe it was that Monty, after six months' constant exposure, had rubbed off on me.

I wasn't sure, but I knew I found this ship really fascinating as I ran—oh, _frick_! There were Security Officers, heading _really_ fast, right toward us. Their phasers looked far bigger and more menacing than I remember. Though...I did see one hardly a week ago when that monster broke into the bunker...heh. But still...when it was pointed at you, glinting evilly in the artificial fluorescent lighting, it was a _whole_ other story.

"No!" Kirk cursed under his breath, attempting to run the other way, as I turned to gaze that way. Monty moved to stand protectively in front of me. I gulped, put my hands up in surrender, and chuckled nervously.

"What's the trouble, sir?" I asked. The man who appeared to be in charge merely glared at me before turning to Kirk.

"Come with me, cupcake!" He growled, placing an emphasis on 'cupcake' that had Kirk glaring at the man in return. I added that to the list of questions to pose to Kirk later. We were led in the direction we had originally been heading, phasers not two inches behind our backs. Monty, Kirk and I kept our hands up. Kirk seemed to look a bit too smug for the situation, as if he had outsmarted someone. I cocked a brow. Well, I suppose he did outsmart the beaming range from before, maybe even whoever this Acting Captain is, but that hardly explains the look on his face right now. I just focused on walking, because trying to answer the millions of questions rattling around in my brain was exhausting. I gazed around the ship, trying to remember everything as I was led up to wherever these men were taking us. The brig, perhaps? Or maybe the bridge. I hoped it was the bridge. Maybe I could see Dad up there, sitting in the Captain's Chair, perfectly fine and eager to listen to how we'd gotten off Delta Vega. I wasn't sure of that, however. There had been something like grief in Kirk's gaze when Dad was mentioned. I prayed it wasn't because Dad was...no, no...he's fine...right? I gulped, gazing at the floor and letting Monty's feet ahead of me guide me, the weight of my unanswered questions weighing me down, making it almost hard to breath. That, and the awkwardness of being in society again, even if it was just a starship. It was full of... _people_. People were things I had not seen in a while. I'd noticed that I was getting a few glances, especially around my stomach, and...yeah. It was not something I was used to after six months of being only able to talk to Monty and Keenser.

Poor Keenser...but hopefully he can get his pardon and everything would be fine. He could apply to the _Enterprise_ , Monty and I'd be a character reference, and everything would be back to relatively normal. I really need to talk to Dad...geez, I really hope he was in the Bridge, and that the Bridge is where we're heading. I had a feeling it was, judging by the fact that we seem to be going on a lot of stairs for the brig, and now we were going into a turbolift, and the button pressed was the topmost one, and I'd probably see the label 'Bridge' if I could see the labels. However, the guy between me and my husband was at just the right angle so that I couldn't make them out. I rolled my eyes as the men cleared their throats. Really? Turbolifts were _that_ awkward, were they? Geez...

I stood there as normally as possible, feeling uncomfortably like a bug under a microscope. All too soon, the turbolift ended and we departed into a fair sized pristine white room with several monitors and several _people_ inside. The interior practically _glowed_ , it was so white and lit up. We were led right up to a young male Vulcan, who seemed to glare murderously at us. He seemed far more emotional than I thought for a Vulcan, but regardless, that glare was freaking me out, as were the eyes of _every_ crew member on the Bridge. Kirk's eyes narrowed as the Vulcan opened his mouth.

"Who are you?" The question was directed at us, I realized a second after it was posed. I swallowed, throat dry. I idly thought his voice sounded exactly like the voice that alerted Security to our presence. Guess Kirk had been right. They'd noticed the valve opening.

"We-we're with him." I replied, nodding toward Kirk. Kirk took a small step forward.

"They're with me." The Vulcan didn't seem to like that news as he narrowed his eyes even further.

"We are traveling at warp speed. How did you manage to beam aboard this ship?" The tone was as cold and icy as the man's stare. I gulped, quailing under the constant staring from everyone around us. Monty took my hand subtly, squeezing it in reassurance as the Vulcan turned to Kirk, who looked smugger than ever as he replied, 'Well, you're the genius. You figure it out.' Clearly, the wrong thing to say as the Vulcan growled under his breath. His jaw clicked audibly in profuse anger. The tension was getting unbearable between the two men, and I wondered who would snap first.

"As Acting Captain, I order you to answer the question."

"Well, I'm not answering, Acting Captain." Kirk snapped back. I narrowed my eyes. So this was the punk that was replacing my father for the time being, huh?

"Pardon me, but my Dad, Captain Pike, is supposed to be in that chair! Where is he?" I growled before I could stop myself. A tall man with short black hair and a seemingly permanent grimace stepped forward.

"Captain Pike's your old man? Bull." I set my jaw as I rounded upon the man (blue shirt, so maybe the Science Officer? Chief Medical Officer?), refusing to let anyone intimidate me. A sudden and inexplicable desire to lash out had risen up, and I couldn't/didn't want to fight it.

"Yes, he is. My name is Eavan Pike Scott." I took a step toward the man who had spoken up. "Now I'm gonna ask again, and this time I want answers; where is my father?" The man sighed.

"Ask Spock over there." I raised a brow. The Vulcan didn't seem likely to respond. I turned out to be right as he merely turned back to Kirk. It seemed he cared more about how we got onto the ship than anything else at the moment. He must really hate Kirk...

"What, that—that didn't frustrate you, does it? My lack of cooperation." Kirk added, smiling so smugly, it was a miracle that no body was jumping Kirk and beating him up yet. It was clear that no body really cared about him. It seemed that Kirk did not give a rip about my question, either. Those two just squared off and refused to be placated until they'd hashed things out. I growled in frustration, but watched as the tension built. "That—that doesn't make you angry." The Vulcan (Spock, wasn't it?) turned to Scotty, who'd been flicking his eyes between the two, a look of utter confusion on his face. I came back over, refraining from stomping, but barely.

"Are you a member of Starfleet?"

"I, um, yes. We both are." He squeaked. "Ca—can I get a towel, please?" I smiled, despite the situation. I loved that a towel was so high a priority that Monty would think to ask for one during what was essentially an interrogation.

"Under penalty of a court martial, I order to explain to me how you were able to beam aboard this ship while traveling at warp." I gulped. No way! He wouldn't! A court martial?! Tha's insane! It seemed that Monty had caved. I wasn't convinced it was the right thing to do however, so I held my tongue.

"Well-"

"Don't answer him." Kirk snapped, eyes never leaving Spock. Monty almost looked confused as he turned to look at Kirk. Spock's eyes became almost enraged as he grit his teeth.

"You _will_ answer me." I swallowed. _Please, Monty...don't. We may not have all the information, but for right now...let's just not give the angry Vulcan what he wants, okay?_ I thought, breathing picking up and heart rate increasing as the tense seconds dragged by. Finally, Monty just smirked, throwing caution to the wind.

"I'd rather not take sides." He replied. Spock's jaw snapped shut in anger. Kirk tilted his head.

"What is it with you, Spock? Hmm? You're planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset." I took a step back. The _frick_?! What was tha' about a _planet_ being destroyed?! _Who_ got murdered?! _What_?! Spock merely clenched his fists and grit his teeth again.

"If you are presuming that these experiences in any way impede my ability to command this ship, you are mistaken." I blinked. How was that possible? I mean, I know he's a Vulcan and all, but...dang! He is _ice_ -cold! If what Kirk said about the planet being destroyed and Spock's mother being murdered was true...this guy, Vulcan or not, would have to feel _something_ , right?

"And yet, you are the one who said fear is necessary for command." Kirk went on. "I mean, di-did you see his ship?" _Whose ship?_ I wanted to ask, but held it in. An interruption could prove dangerous to my health, by the looks on the two men's faces. No one even remembered that I had asked about my father anymore. All eyes and all attention was honed in on the confrontation happening in plain sight. "Did you see what he did?" _Who did what now?_ Was another question I bit my tongue to hold in.

"Yes, of course I did." I blinked. Something in the way he said that...there was grief in his words, as well as anger at Kirk for daring to press his buttons like this. I hoped this wouldn't last too much longer. I really wanted to find out everything I was missing out on. If possible, Kirk got even closer to Spock.

"So are you afraid, or aren't you?" Spock eyed Kirk with a glint dangerously close to murderous.

"I will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion!"

"Then why don't you stop me?" Kirk snapped back. There was something very dangerous brewing here. I knew, however, that I would only stir the pot if I tried to calm them down, so I stood on the sidelines.

"Step away from me, Mr. Kirk." Spock growled. Kirk merely sneered and sidled a little closer, forcing Spock to take a step back.

"What's it like not to feel anger, or heartbreak?" There was an almost reluctant edge to Kirk's voice now. It took me by surprise. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Kirk didn't want to do this, but was...choosing to. Almost like he had no choice. I raised a brow, helpless to stop whatever happened next. "Or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you?" Again with the mother, I noted, as Kirk's eyes narrowed in a show of bravado. He licked his lips as Spock released his breath in a hiss.

"Back away from me." Spock snapped. There was almost a plead to it. I came forward, placing a hand on Kirk's shoulder.

"Kirk...stop." I whispered. He merely pushed my hand away. I huffed. "Yer funeral." I growled under my breath. If he wanted to continue prodding the Vulcan for a reaction...go right ahead, Kirk. I won't/ can't stop you.

"You feel _nothing_!" He barked. "It must not even _compute_ for you!" That seemed to anger Spock, I noticed, more than anything, the suggestion that he was close to a mechanical level of emotion, which was nothing. Kirk swallowed. "You _never_ loved her!" I inhaled sharply in fear for Kirk's life as Spock finally snapped, yelling out in anger as he punched Kirk back. Scotty pulled me aside. Kirk was forced to try and defend himself as Spock attacked and attacked mercilessly, fists pummeling Kirk into various monitors and stations around the Bridge. The crew were forced to move aside as the battling pair circled the Bridge.

"Jim!" I screamed as Kirk was pinned helplessly against a station, Spock seething in fury and anger, holding Kirk's throat as Kirk struggled to breath. I felt my stomach clench. Kirk was really in for it now. He'd provoked a Vulcan. Kirk choked as the seconds ticked by. Only Monty held me back from trying to get Kirk away from Spock before he was killed. Spock's murderous glare bore into Kirk as he gripped Kirk tighter, panting from the fight. My heart kicked up. Surely, no one hated Kirk so much they'd just let him be _murdered_ , right? What was all this about, anyway? Kirk didn't exactly seem like the type to randomly antagonize people like this. "Stop, please!" I tried, straining against Monty, who was silently gripping my waist. I started feeling ready to sob. " _Do something_!" I shouted, to no avail. "Spock will _kill_ Kirk!" The seconds continued, Kirk choking still, and no one moved a muscle. I sobbed. No...way...

" _Spock_!" Came an authoritative Vulcan male voice from somewhere among the crew members, and sure enough, it was a Vulcan that came forward. He wore formal clothing and seemed to radiate calm and authority. I relaxed as Spock's fire slowly died down, and he released Kirk moments later, stepping away, still panting. I ran over, checking Jim over quickly as he coughed and wheezed. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had _really_ not wanted to bury Kirk hardly an _hour_ after meeting him. Spock, however, caught my attention as he looked...dazed and confused, as if what he had done was just not hitting him. I licked my lips. It almost seemed that Spock now regretted his actions, realizing the murder he'd almost committed. He looked around with almost childlike, bewildered expression, like he himself was confused as to why he had done that, with a horror beneath it all. His eyes met those of an African-American woman with a red dress of a Communications Officer and sad eyes, as well as the male Vulcan (Spock's father, perhaps?) in the formal garb. I knew he now realized that if it hadn't been for that older Vulcan...Kirk might be dead. No one else seemed to even think about trying to help Kirk, which I found a little frustrating. If they really cared about Kirk, it wouldn't matter if they'd had to fight a hacked off Vulcan, right?

"You okay?" I whispered. Kirk nodded, hand over his throat where Spock had gripped him. I stood up, Monty right there to steady me. I squeezed his arm in thanks, turning to watch as Spock headed out of the Bridge, stopping before the man who had doubted my parentage. He looked more sour than ever, Spock not even looking at him as he spoke.

"Doctor, I am no longer fit for duty." He breathed. I swallowed. Was that what Kirk wanted? I remembered regulation 619, the one about emotionally compromised officers relinquishing duty, but why did Kirk go to _that_ extreme to get his chair? There were _surely_ other ways, right? Kirk watched Spock resign his duties with a somber expression, almost as if to say 'Sorry. It had to be done'. It went on the list. "I hereby relinquish my command, based on the fact that I have been emotionally compromised. Please not the time and date in the ship's log." I swallowed again. This was a terrible moment for everyone involved, I could tell. While it was weird being suddenly thrust onto a starship full of people, I was quickly overcoming my initial shyness and anxiety. I briefly considered following Spock (poor guy looked _wrecked_ ), but disregarded it immediately. I would be of no help to him. He didn't know, like, or even trust me. All he knew about me was that I was with Kirk, and that meant (to him, at least) trouble. It wouldn't matter that I wanted to help Spock out. He'd see me as a nuisance. I didn't want that, so I merely stood there. Pondering what to do, along with everyone on the Bridge in the wake of the incident. The African-American woman met Spock at the turbolift, gazing at him sadly. He merely left without a word, leaving the woman gazing after him, sighing and returning to her original station.

"I like this ship!" Came Monty's voice after a few seconds. "Yeh know, it's exciting!" I laughed, despite the situation and myself. Oh, Monty...I love you.

"It really is." I replied. Then noticed that Monty, having put his hands up at the start of the Kirk vs Spock fight, had yet to drop them. "Put yer hands down." I whispered. The surly man, finishing the requested addition to the ship's log rather quickly, glared at Jim.

"Well, congratulations, Jim." He mused sarcastically. "Now we've got no Captain and no First Officer to replace him." I blinked.

"Again with that, eh? Where _is_ Captain Pike?" No one answered, a few gazing at their feet sullenly. I sighed. This was getting' old...

"We do have a replacement." Jim noted, moving toward the chair my father should be in and sitting down.

"What?" The man asked. An Asian-looking man in a yellow shirt sighed.

"Pike made him First Officer." He noted, nodding toward Kirk.

"He did?" I asked.

"Before I got marooned on that ice rink." Jim replied under his breath.

"You gotta be _kidding_ me." The sour man snapped. Jim scoffed.

"Thanks for the support." He retorted, sighing and looking around at the chair like he had no idea what he was doing. The woman who met Spock at the turbolift came over, scowling darkly at Jim.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing, _Captain_." She growled. Kirk looked her in the eye.

"So do I." He replied, looking down again, eyes serious and mellow for the first time since I'd met him. I gulped as the woman stalked by me to get back to her station. We were now under a man who has no clue what to do, essentially. Oh, boy. This was gonna be interesting...


	5. The 'Fun' Part

" _Attention, crew of the Enterprise. This is James Kirk._ " I hummed in amusement. His real was James, huh? Wait...yeah...I knew that...Mum was friends with Mrs. Kirk...and apparently, one of the names Mrs. Kirk was always considering was James. Either that, or Tiberius. I sighed as Kirk continued, not really even paying attention anymore. " _Mr. Spock has resigned commission and advanced me to Acting Captain. I know you were all expecting to regroup with the Fleet, but I'm ordering a pursuit course of the enemy ship to Earth. I want all departments at battle stations and ready in 10 minutes._ " I nodded, coming out of the trance of thought I'd been in. " _Either we're going down, or they are. Kirk out._ "

"Should I head down to Med Bay, then?" I asked. Kirk eyed me in confusion. I rolled my eyes. "Did I not tell you I'm a Nurse Practitioner?" James chuckled.

"No, you didn't. Your husband's an Engineer, though, right?" I nodded.

"A very good one, at that." Jim nodded, humming in thought.

"Yeah, go ahead. But send me the usual papers and everything, okay?" I saluted, smiling at myself, and turning the blue shirt that still looked like he was sucking a lemon. He sighed after a second under Kirk's smirk and my unwavering gaze.

"Fine. Come on, you two. Let's get you some clothes and uniforms." Monty motioned for the man to lead on. "By the way, I'm Dr. McCoy, the Chief Medical Officer, so do as I say, got it? I trump everyone else." I nodded.

"Shouldn't be a problem." I said, moving to stand beside McCoy in the turbolift.

"Actually, when we're not on call, you can call me Leonard, but _only_ when we're not on call, kay?"

"Of course." I said, smiling. "Wouldn't want to damage your professional reputation." I muttered sarcastically. He rolled his eyes.

"And none of that on call, either. What we do is very serious, and oftentimes we're holding literally holding lives in our hands. Get too cocky, and you'll kill someone." I gulped. This guy was _intense_. I respected that, but _dang_ , bro. Loosen up already!

"I know, sir." I whispered.

"Don't act like I'm gonna bite yer head off. I won't if you do your job right." I nodded.

"Right." The turbolift ended and we departed, McCoy leading us down a white hall toward a white room. The entire ship was just so... _white_! It was starting to hurt my eyes, but I blinked it away for the time being.

"What size are you?" McCoy asked. I blinked away from my wide-eyed trance, drooling over the tools and equipment in the Medical Bay to tell him my pants size and shirt size, asking for a stretchy one, for obvious reasons, and that he'd better not hand me one of those bloody fricking dresses. McCoy nodded and went to a cabinet to get Monty and I our uniforms and towels. Well, just a towel for Monty, since the Engineering uniforms were, obviously, in _Engineering_. While the good dcotor was away, we were left to gaze around. One thing I noticed was that, out of the relatively few patients in here, thankfully, there were a _lot_ of Vulcans. Like, if there were ten patients in all ( and tha's actually a fiar estimate of the number of patients), six, if not up to eight, were Vulcans. What the frick?!

Did—did...did Vulcan blow up?! How the _frick_?! I swallowed and accepted the clothes without comment, not even caring that I would have to just pull a curtain closed to change. It was far better than changing when you're shivering and your teeth are chattering and your fricking shirt must have gotten somehow really stiff in the night because it refuses to move properly! I came out, adjusting the shirt to more comfortably stretch over the bulge of my stomach and rolling up the sleeves. I walked over to McCoy, who was getting ready to lead Monty to Engineering. We exited, McCoy calling out instructions as to what was to be done in his absence as he did so.

"Thank-"

"Save it. It's Captain's Orders. I'm not trying to be friendly. I also don't take suck-ups well." Leonard muttered. I sighed.

"Alright then." This would be _fun_. Maybe he'll loosen up. I sighed. "Look, uh, Leonard. I am new here, I get that. Really, I do. I don't expect to just jump in and get treated like any other nurse, or step all over your Med Bay. I just don't want to be treated like a completely moronic newbie because of that. I just want to do my job, and do it the way I find to be most efficient. If you disagree, all I ask is that you correct me without putting me down. I get defensive pretty quick."

"I can attest to that." Monty mused. I laughed. McCoy cracked a tiny smirk.

"Sorry...I just...there's been a lot happening lately and...I guess it's gotten to me." I nodded, thinking that I can't remember properly introducing myself, if you don't count my outburst on the Bridge.

"That's alright, Leonard. My name is Eavan Pike-Scott."

"I remember. You kinda shouted it at me on the Bridge." I flushed, preferring to act like that hadn't happened.

"Yeah...sorry about that. I just...it's been a crazy day."

"Tell me about it." McCoy retorted, missing not one beat. I liked him already, in a purely platonic, professional way, geez! I _am_ quite happily married, thank you kindly! He sighed, pressing a button on the turbolift again. I took note of the labels of the different buttons, as I could actually read what they said this time. We got off in Engineering, and McCoy had to ask a random engineer where the break room was, as that was where the uniforms were kept. Once Monty was changed, it was back up to the Bridge, Monty wiping out his ears with the towel. When we got there, Monty and I were a bit confused and left to our own devices, apparently, as everyone had a job to do but us. I noticed a young (younger than me, and I was 27!) man with adorably curly brown hair and eager, energetic twinkling eyes, poring over a screen, smiling broadly and racing over to where the command officers were in the middle of a (for lack of a better term) argument. He practically skipped over there, really. I laughed. He was cute, in a 'fluffy teddy bear' kinda way. He tapped rapidly on Kirk's shoulders, right as the argument got to a crescendo, by the sound of it.

"Yes, Mr. Chekov." Kirk sighed, obviously only humoring the kid. "What is it?"

"Based on zeh _Narada_ 's course from Wulcan, I have projected that Nero will travel past Saturn." Kirk nodded impatiently. "Like you said, we need to stay inwisible to Nero or he'll destroy us." I blinked. That sounded terrible.

"Uh...how's—how's Nero?" I asked.

"Just, uh, someone we ran into." Kirk said, waving my question off and returning to Chekov(that's his name, right?)'s theory. Monty and I decided to get involved, as there was a chance that whatever course of action Kirk took, it would get us all killed.

"If Mr. Scott can get us to Varp Factor 4, and if we drop out of varp behind one of Saturn's moons—say...Titan, zeh magnetic distortion from zeh planet's rings will make us inwisible to Nero's senors." I clapped him on the back.

"Nice!"

"Zank you, ma'am." He replied. "Now, from zere, as long as zeh drill is not actuated, we can beam aboard zeh enemy ship." Monty nodded, face thoughtful.

"Aye, that might work." I chuckled.

"Sounded like Greek to me." Monty rolled his eyes.

"Try leanin' all those medical terms." I laughed.

"I did, remember?"

"Oh, shut it, lass." He mumbled. I gave him a hug.

"I love you." I whispered.

"And I you." He replied. McCoy turned to Chekov.

"Wait a minute, kid. How old are you?"

"Sewenteen, sir." Chekov replied proudly, a slight puff to his chest. McCoy turned to Jim.

"Oh—oh, good. He's seventeen!"

"Oh, please. Monty was coming up with this kinda thing by then." I retorted. Monty shrugged.

"Engineering's always clicked for me."

"And that's why our aircar never needed a checkup." I had a feeling we were amusing to everyone around, but these snark fests were too fun to stop.

"We only had it a month." Scotty replied. I shrugged.

"But still." He rolled his eyes. "You checked it over, like, everyday." Then, there was the sound of a door opening and footsteps approaching before Monty could come up with a rebuttal. When we turned to look, we were greeted with the sight of Spock, looking like nothing had happened. I found that ability slightly disconcerting. I know it's just cus he's Vulcan, but that doesn't make any less creepy when not ten minutes ago, those now serious and focused eyes were murderous and furious, the hands that hanging limp at Spock's sides closing tighter and tighter around Jim's throat. He came toward us, almost smirking. How he could do that, I had no idea. Typically, if you try to kill someone, who don't go anywhere near them, and certainly not smirking as if nothing had happened.

"Doctor, Mr. Chekov is correct. I can confirm his telemetry. If Mr. Sulu" (the Asian man perked up here) "is able to maneuver us into position, I can beam aboard Nero's ship, steal back the black hole device, and, if possible, bring back Captain Pike." I blanched. Who was this Nero, and why did he have my dad?!

"Once again, I ask, 'where's Dad?'" I grumbled, arms crossed. Jim groaned.

"...On Nero's ship."

"And who's this Nero?"

"No one we can't handle, Eavan."

"Then let's get Dad back." I replied, before Monty put his hand on my shoulder.

"Hold yer horses, love. Yer not goin' onto that ship. Who knows what's waiting there?" Jim shrugged.

"Romulans?" Monty rolled his eyes.

"Who will kill if they get the chance."

"Probably." Monty gave me a 'my point has been made' look. I huffed.

"But it's my _father_ on board that ship!"

"And I promised him I wouldn't put you in danger!" Monty snapped back.

" _I'm_ puttin' me in danger, Monty! Come on!" Monty merely gave me a 'my foot is down' look. I groaned. "Fine, but don't think I'm gonna be happy about it." Jim decided to act like nothing had interrupted the previous discussion.

"I won't allow you to do that, Mr. Spock." Spock merely smirked.

"Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry. Our cultural similarities will make it easier for me to access the ship's computer to locate the device." The smirk dropped, the eyes becoming serious again. "Also, my mother was human, which makes Earth the only home I have left." Whoa...I kinda forgot about that in the rush of events here. So, now I know what happened to Vulcan. Sounds like this Nero somehow sucked Vulcan into a black hole or something like that. But what was that about a drill?

Kirk took a few steps forward. "Then I'm coming with you." Spock smirked again.

"I would cite regulation, but I know you will simply ignore it." It was amazing to me that two men who fought less than ten minutes ago could not look each other in the eye and sass each other out without it coming to blows again.

"See? We are getting to know each other." Jim replied. I rolled my eyes as Kirk left for the transporter room, smacking Spock's shoulder lightly as he passed. Spock gave Kirk a 'did you just touch me?' look. I nearly laughed, but headed to Med Bay with McCoy to prepare to receive Dad. I breathed a little shakily.

"Dr. McCoy?" I asked on the turbolift.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about Nero." He sighed.

"He's a Romulan with some kinda vendetta against Starfleet. Took out a whole small fleet before the _Enterprise_ got to Vulcan." I tilted my head in confusion.

"But why was there a Federation fleet at Vulcan?"

"Responding to a distress call. We would've been destroyed, if Mr. Sulu hadn't accidentally forgotten to disengage something in the mooring or something." I felt sick.

"The only reason the _Enterprise_ was left alone was pure luck and a clumsy helmsman?" McCoy nodded.

"Pretty much."

"Frick. But then...why didn't Nero destroy the _Enterprise_ as soon as it arrived at Vulcan?" McCoy shrugged, pressing a button to card in.

"Well...Nero wanted Spock to see something, I think."

"Him destroying Vulcan?"

"Yeah. Guy's a physco. You'd be nothing against him, dealt with with the squeeze of a trigger." I shivered.

"Okay, okay. I get it."

"That, and...you're pregnant. That makes you weak in their eyes, not worthy to live or something. I dunno, but you'd be dead if you step foot on that ship."

"I told Monty I'd stay in the Transporter Room to await Dad's arrival." I said, and I knew McCoy picked up on the request to leave in the statement.

"Go."

(End chapter)

Monty met me halfway to the Transporter Room.

"Hey."  
"Hey." I replied, smiling. "I know; stay put in the Transporter Room til the boys get back." I said, heaving a sigh. Monty hugged me close.

"Love...do yeh think I'd let you essentially kill yerself, and our child, fer no reason?" I sighed.

"No, but...I just...I miss dad, and now that I know he's on that madman's ship...I can't help but assume the worst." Monty chuckled.

"This is _Christopher Pike_ we're talkin' about here, Eavan. I'm sure he's fine." I nodded.

"Yeah, silly me." I replied sarcastically, smiling. I kissed Scotty. "Les' get him back." At that moment, we heard Spock approaching, followed by that African-American woman from before. Thankfully, I don't believe they heard or saw anything. We were a little ahead of them, heading in, sitting down, and gearing the equipment up before they arrived. Just as we entered the room, we felt a sudden small lurch and then a rising sensation. I knew than that this Mr. Sulu had indeed gotten us into position. Sure enough, a P.A message came through seconds later, saying that we were now above Titan.

"Really? Fine job, Mr. Sulu. Well done." Scotty replied, wrapping up the preparations just as Kirk, Spock, and that woman came into the room.

"How are we, Scotty?"

"Unbelievably, sir. The ship is in position." Kirk sighed, pressing a button to hail the Bridge.

"Whatever happens, Mr. Sulu, if you think you have the tactical advantage, you fire on that ship, even if we're still onboard. That's an order." I gulped. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen. Mr. Sulu didn't seem like the guy that would do that, even if the Captain had ordered him to, but then again, maybe he would. I didn't know him at all, but there was something about these people...they weren't willing to be ruthless killers just to complete a mission, even if it would be tactically advantageous.

" _Yes, sir._ " Came the reply. Kirk nodded. It was only then that I noticed the woman and Spock...uh...making out behind Kirk. I blinked, shocked more at the fact that a _Vulcan_ was making out with a woman in public. It would be one thing if it were in a private setting, with no private eyes prying and seeing something they didn't want to see, but _here_?! _Get a room, people...geez..._ The couple held each other tightly, and I could tell this would go on for a while yet, the way those two were sucking face.

"Otherwise, we'll contact the Enterprise when we're ready to bee beamed back." _That was a merciful distraction, Captain. Thank you._

" _Good luck._ " Was the final reply. I gulped.

"Jim...you don't think it'll come to that, right?" Jim sighed.

"I am kinda banking on it not, but...if it comes to that, maybe we can be beamed back before Mr. Sulu opens fire." We were both grasping at straws here, and we both knew that. We just needed a glimmer of hope in this dark situation. I nodded.

"Les' hope so." Kirk finally headed to a beaming pad as I squirmed with nervous energy in my seat. This was it. They were ready to beam onto Nero(whoever that was)'s ship. And there was no guarantee their frankly insane plan would even work. We may end up staring at a Romulan attack without a Captain, First Officer, or even an Acting Captain. I prayed that wouldn't happen, but I knew it was a possility. Kirk then somehow just noticed the make out session beside him, doing a double take. I found it sweet that Spock had found a lover, even if only temporarily. Vulcans rarely started relationships for a quick buzz, so to speak, however. Maybe...these two would end up like me and Scotty (happily married and expecting) in a year or two. I hope so. I may not have mentioned it yet, but...I absolutely _love_ babies and little kids! They're so cute! Can't wait for the one in me, really. Part of me wants to just do a C-Section already, but...yeah, no. despite huge advances in _every_ medical field (things like making cancer almost as low a disease as mono; unpleasant, but quite treatable, among several other things) ...premies were still a huge risk. Well...far too big a risk for me to feel comfortable attempting, beginning third term of pregnancy or no.

...*sigh* How the _frick_ did I manage to go from worrying about what Kirk and Spock were stupidly doing to my reasons for not cutting my pregnancy short? I suppose I'm just weird like that.

"I will be back." Spock whispered, his forehead pressed against the woman's in a romantic, reassuring gesture. He was telling her not to worry without words. And she was starting to do just that, by the way her hands loosened ever so slightly. Their eyes were closed, drinking in each other's mere presence. As with any romance I witnessed (including my own), my initial response was to chuckle, then laugh, then proceed to make a fool out of myself by overreacting and probably freaking the people involved out exponentially. I clasped a hand over my mouth to halt that response.

"You better be." She whispered back, voice surprisingly steady. I suspected she was forcing it to be so. Spock's hands tightened slightly, again in a reassuring way, one on the nape of her neck to draw her in, the other on the small of her back to do the same thing. I pictured the times Monty held me that way, and suddenly it appeared to get several degrees hotter in the room. "I'll be monitoring your frequency." She added, eying her lover with warm, brown worried eyes. Spock nodded slightly, giving the woman the barest hint of a smile.

"Thank you, Nyota." Jim took another double take. Did he not know the woman's name before now, as well? He then gave a 'huh' look, shrugging subtly when I caught his eyes. They kissed again, slow and sure. Nyota met Jim's eyes and he gave her a nod of approval. Monty met my gaze like 'ooohh, boy...', awkwardly going back to setting the coordinates. Jim then turned to Spock, who was merely standing there, slightly impatient look in his face being the only emotion expressed.

"So, her first name's Nyota?" There was a joke hidden, I could tell by Kirk's smirk, but again I couldn't pick up on it. If I could, I might have chuckled, but I could only sit there in confusion.

"I have no comment on the matter." Spock replied, sounding almost annoyed. There was a clear 'let's get this going' vibe in the room. Monty sighed, still looking awkward.

"Okay dokey, then. If there's any common sense in the design of the enemy's ship, I should be putting you somewhere in the Cargo Bay. Shouldn't be a soul in sight." I swallowed. This was actually happening...eep!

"Energize." Kirk ordered crisply. The golden swirls disappeared seconds later.

They were gone. My father's life was now in Kirk's hands. That, and Spock's. So I didn't have to _really_ worry, but...I did still worry. An unhealthy amount, really.


	6. Author's Note

Hey, y'all. I'm sorry for not updating at all or even writing. I can't write because my computer is refusing to let me sign into my profile. It stays on the black screen right before the sign in screen. I should have this resolved soon. I have a friend who is good with computers. I'll see if he can figure it all out on Wednesday, but until then...nada. Sorry, guys! I wish I could give better news, but I'm writing this on an iPhone right now, so yeah. Sorry, but there's nothing really I can do about this!


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